“I’m sorry!''
'Don't say that,' he growled, trying to decide which bit of him hurt the worst.
'But I am!' she wailed. 'Here, let me help you up.'
'Don't,' he yelled frantically, finishing with a somewhat quieter, 'touch me. Please.'
Her lips parted with mortified horror, she started blinking rapidly, and for a moment James thought she might cry. 'It's perfectly all right,' he forced himself to lie. 'I'm not hurt.' At her incredulous stare, he added, 'Very much.'
She swallowed. 'I'm so clumsy. Even Susan refuses to dance with me.'
'Susan?'
'My sister. She's fourteen.'
'Ah,' he said, then added under his breath, 'Smart girl.'
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. 'Are you certain you wouldn't like a hand up?'
James, who had been quietly trying to extricate himself from his thorny prison, finally faced the truth that in one-on-one combat, the rosebush would emerge the victor. 'I'm going to give you my hand,' he directed, keeping his words nice and slow, 'and then you are going to pull me up and out. Is that clear?''
She nodded.
'Not to the side, not forward, not-'
'I said it's clear!' she snapped. Before he even had a chance to react, she grabbed his hand and hauled him out of the rosebush.
James just stared at her for a moment, more than a little shocked by the strength hidden in her tiny frame.
'I'm clumsy,' she said. 'Not an idiot.'
Again, he was rendered speechless. Twice in one minute had to be a new record.
'Are you injured?' she asked brusquely, picking a thorn off his jacket and then another from his sleeve. 'Your hand looks scratched. You should have worn gloves.'
'Too hot for gloves,' James murmured, watching her as she picked more thorns off him. She had to be a complete innocent-no lady of any experience, even with mere flirtation, would stand so close, her hands running up and down his body…
Very well, he admitted to himself, he was letting his imagination and his libido get the better of him. She wasn't exactly running her hands up and down his body, but she might as well have been with the way he was reacting. She was so close. He could just reach out and touch her hair-see how soft it really was, and-
Oh, God, he could smell her.
His body hardened in a second.
She pulled her hand back and looked up, her eyes innocent and blue. “Is something wrong?''
“Why would anything be wrong?'' he asked, his voice strangled.
'You stiffened.'
He smiled humorlessly. If she only knew…
She picked off another thorn, this one caught on the collar of his jacket. 'And to be frank, you sound quite odd.'
James coughed, trying to ignore the way her knuckles accidentally brushed against the side of his jaw. 'Frog in my throat,' he rasped.
'Oh.' She stood back and examined her handiwork. 'Oh, dear, I missed one.'
He followed her eyes… down to his thigh. 'I'll get that one,' he said quickly.
She blushed. 'Yes, that would be best, but-'
'But what?'
'Another one,' she said with an embarrassed cough and a pointed finger.
'Where?' he asked, just to make her blush some more.
'There. A little higher.' She pointed and looked away, turning red as a beet.
James grinned. He'd forgotten how much fun it was to turn ladies' cheeks to pink. 'There, now. Am I clean?'
She turned back, looked him over, and nodded. 'I really am terribly sorry about the, ah, rosebush,' she said with a contrite tilt of her head. 'Truly very sorry.'
The minute James heard the word 'sorry' again, he had to fight the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake. 'Yes, I believe we have already established that.'
One of her delicate hands rose to her cheek in an expression of concern. “I know, but your face is scratched, and we really should treat it with salve, and-I say, why are you sniffing?'
Caught. 'Was I?'
'Yes.'
He gave her his most boyish smile. 'You smell like roses.'
'No,' she said with an amused smile, 'you smell like roses.'
James started to laugh. His chin hurt where she'd smacked him twice, his foot throbbed where she'd stepped on it, and his entire body felt as if he'd swum through a rosebush, which wasn't as far off the truth as it sounded. Yet still he started to laugh.
He looked over at Miss Hotchkiss, who was chewing on her lower lip and eyeing him dubiously. 'I'm not going mad, if that's what worries you,' he said with a jaunty smile, 'although I would like to accept your offer of medical treatment.'
She nodded briskly. 'We'd best get you inside, then. There is a small room not very far from the kitchen where Lady Danbury keeps her medicines. I'm sure there will be some sort of salve or lotion we can apply to your wounds.'
'Will you… ah… be seeing to-'
'Your scrapes?' she finished for him, her lips twisting into a self-deprecating smile. 'Don't worry, even I am nimble enough to tend to those scratches without causing mortal injury. I've cleaned up far more cuts and scrapes than I care to think about.'
“Those siblings of yours are younger than you, then?''
She nodded. “And adventurous. Just yesterday Lucas and Jane informed me that they plan to build an underground fort.' She let out an incredulous laugh. 'They told me I need to chop down our only tree to provide them with wooden support beams. Where they get these ideas, I'll never know, but- Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me to prattle on about my family.'
'No,' James said, more than a bit surprised by the quickness of his reply. “I enjoy hearing about your family. They sound delightful.'
Her eyes softened, and he got the impression that her mind had drifted to somewhere very far away- somewhere, to judge by her dreamy smile, that was very very nice. 'They are,' she replied. 'Of course we bicker and argue like all families, but- Oh, look at me. I'm doing it again. All I meant to do was assure you that I have more than enough experience with minor injuries.'
'In that case,' he said with great flair, 'I trust you completely. Anyone who has tended to small children is experienced enough to see to these paltry wounds.'
'I'm glad to hear that I meet with your approval,' she said wryly.
He held out his hand. 'Shall we call a truce? I may call you friend?'
She nodded. 'Truce.'
'Good. Then back to the house with us.'
They laughed and talked as they exited the rose garden, and it was only when James was halfway back to Danbury House that he remembered that he suspected her of blackmail.
Elizabeth dipped her handkerchief in the sharp-smelling salve. 'This may sting a bit,' she warned.
Mr. Siddons grinned. 'I think I'm man enough to- Yow! What is in that?'
'I told you it might sting.'
